


Something In The Air

by LogicGunn



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Asexual Rodney McKay, Asexuality, Established Rodney/John, F/M, M/M, No asexuals were harmed in the writing of this story, Possibly a little dub-con but no one does anything they wouldn't ordinarily want to do, Sex Pollen, Team, established Teyla/Ronon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24004684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LogicGunn/pseuds/LogicGunn
Summary: “So am I, but if a wraith jumps out of the pansies you need to be ready for them.”
Relationships: Rodney McKay/John Sheppard, Ronon Dex/Teyla Emmagan, Ronon Dex/Teyla Emmagan/Rodney McKay/John Sheppard
Comments: 11
Kudos: 60





	Something In The Air

**Author's Note:**

> This started as a generic sex pollen OT4 fic, but then I wondered what would happen if one of the team was asexual. Much affection, lots of touching, but no inappropriate interactions, I promise.

The second they rematerialise out of the ‘gate, Rodney’s eyes are assaulted by an explosion of colour. Flowers, blanketing the ground as far as the eye can see, in shades of teal and orange and purple. Each flower has a dark pattern in the centre, like a little sleepy face. There are hundreds of thousands of them covering the valley around them, perhaps even millions. 

“Oh, hey,” says John, stepping off the plinth and crouching down to take a closer look. “They look just like pansies.” 

“John, don’t-” starts Rodney, but it’s too late. John picks a flower, and as he raises it up it sneezes a little puff of pollen from its core with an audible ‘choo’. Rodney has half a second to muse over the botanical mechanics that would make a flower eject its pollen like that when another one sneezes by John’s feet, then another one, then another one, and suddenly it’s a sneezing party and everyone is invited as the motion radiates rapidly outwards from where John is squatting, a chorus of high-pitched choo's echoing across the meadow. In a matter of moments, the sky is a dusty haze and the whole team are covered head to toe in a fine, yellow powder. 

“Oops,” says John, dropping the flower on the ground. 

“Well that’s just fantastic,” moans Rodney. “We’ve been on this planet all of thirty seconds and you’ve already exposed us to toxic levels of alien biohazard. Any minute now I’m going to have a reaction and it’s all your fault.” 

“Jeez, Rodney, it’s just a little pollen.” 

Rodney looks down at John and blinks, clumps of pollen dropping from his lashes. It takes all his willpower not to rub his eyes. “And I’m just a little allergic, Colonel. This much pollen could send me into anaphylaxis.” 

“We all have epi-pens in case of trouble,” says John as he stands up, trying to brush the fine dust off his trousers. 

Rodney grabs his LSD from his vest pocket and sits down on the edge of the platform with a huff. He has to wipe the screen before he can take readings, such is the abundance of the pollen. “No life signs or energy readings...background radiation levels are nominal. In all likelihood, there’s nothing here worth writing home about.” 

John puts on his sunglasses and pivots on the spot, taking in the valley they stand in. Even dusted with pollen he looks enticing, all svelte lines and lazy charm. All Rodney wants to do is press up against him and hold on. 

Teyla sneezes three times in quick succession behind them. They all turn to her with concern but she waves them off, fishing a piece of cloth out of her tac-vest, so Rodney looks back at the LSD; if she can sneeze it’s not serious. He extends the range of the device as far as it can possibly go, but it seems this planet is exactly what it looks like; an overgrown arboretum. 

“Well, I think it’s time to pack it up and head home,” he says, tucking his LSD safely away. “There are a thousand and one things I would like to be doing and none of them involves communing with nature.” 

“Where’s your sense of adventure?” says John. 

“I left it in the lab.” 

“Come on, McKay,” says Ronon. “A little fresh air will do you good.” 

“Fresh air?!” exclaims Rodney. “The air is saturated with particulate. We’re breathing it in! Who knows what kind of respiratory ailments we’ll develop? Blocked alveoli or COPD or respiratory distress. It could be carcinogenic, for all we know.” 

“Sounds like you’re getting enough oxygen to me.” 

“Yes, well, what would you know you overgrown, invulnerable barbarian. Look, I’m not saying we’re going to drop dead any second, but since when has it been a good idea to stay in a place with poisoned air?” 

Ronon puts a firm hand on Rodney’s shoulder, turns him around and pushes him off the plinth. “Get going. You’re on point.” 

Rodney turns back in surprise. “What...me? Really?” 

“Yeah, you. Or do you think you can’t handle it?” 

“I can handle it,” says Rodney, smugly. “If-if you’re sure?” he adds, a little hesitantly, squinting in the bright light of the sun. 

“We have your back, Rodney,” says Teyla, stepping down next to him and gripping her P90. “You will do just fine, I am certain.” 

With a ringing endorsement like that he can’t refuse, not when Teyla is smiling at him so encouragingly. He straightens his back and sets off across the pasture, one hand on his Barretta just in case. 

The flowers really are everywhere but there are no bees or wasps or other pollinators, no insects of any kind. Rodney theorises that the great communal sneeze is their method of pollination, but if they hadn’t come to the planet and set it off, how would it have initiated? A strong breeze perhaps? Or are there other animals on the planet, lying in wait for them to cross paths. He swipes his brow with the back of his hand and curses the sun burning bright above them, making him sweat and pant, and in his distraction he stumbles over a clod of dirt on the ground. 

“Pay attention, McKay!” rumbles Ronon from somewhere to his left, and oh...maybe Rodney’s not cut out for being on point. Maybe he’s just too much of a scientist to be in charge off-world. His selectively-perceptive brain could put them all at risk. It’s a vulnerability. He turns around to say so but gets momentarily distracted by Teyla unzipping her tac-vest. 

“Should you really be doing that?” he asks her. 

“I am too hot,” she replies, sighing. 

“So am I, but if a wraith jumps out of the pansies you need to be ready for them.” 

Teyla swings the vest over her shoulder and loosens the laces of her top. “I do not sense any Wraith in the vicinity,” she says, pointedly. 

Rodney’s eyes stray to where her top gapes open, the ample curve underneath and the shadowy hollow between her breasts. He wonders idly what it would be like to press his face into that hollow and just breathe in her scent, but that’s not something that people do. Teyla raises an eyebrow when she catches him staring, but smiles warmly when he blushes. 

“Colonel?” says Rodney, collecting himself and looking to John for direction. 

“It is kinda hot, buddy,” says John, and he starts to remove his own vest. Ronon follows suit, removing his leather waistcoat and tucking it into his belt. Sweat is rolling down his face, tracking through the pollen and Rodney has a sudden urge to wipe it off with his fingertips. He swallows and considers his own body which is already damp in the crevices. If even Ronon is feeling relaxed... 

“Okay,” he says. “If you’re all sure it’s safe.” 

“It is perfectly safe, Rodney,” says Teyla. 

“Yeah. Take a chill pill,” says Ronon, grinning, and Rodney wonders if it was Cadman that taught him that one. It sounds like something she would say. He takes off his vest and lets it hang down over his arm. Divested of the protective layer a slight breeze passes through his t-shirt, and though it’s a cooling sensation it does very little to temper the burning heat. He applied his homemade sunscreen before they left Atlantis, much to the amusement of John, so he’s not worried about his skin burning, but dehydration is still a risk and- 

As they reach the peak of one of the rolling hills a river comes into view, with the most beautiful, crystal-clear water he’s ever seen, edged with a sandy bank. It’s incredibly inviting and all he wants to do is dip his hot feet into it. 

Teyla brushes past him, rushing to the water’s edge. She drops her vest in the sand and turns around, grinning happily with her arms wide. 

“We should stop here,” she says, then she bends down to unlace her boots, heedless of the intentions of the others. 

Rodney looks to John, who shrugs and finds his own place to drop his vest and his gun, toeing his boots off easily. Ronon joins Teyla at the water’s edge and removes not only his waistcoat and gun, but also his top, and the sight of his rippling muscles stops Rodney dead in his tracks. He swallows, suppressing a desire to go over there and touch the expanse of his back with his hands. Instead, he finds a raised bank by the river to set his things down then rolls up his trousers and steps into it, feeling the icy cold water tickle his ankles and cool down his feet. 

The rest of his team all roll up their own trousers and join him in the river, and it’s not long before Ronon and John get a little rowdy, as they tend to do when they’re relaxed. John splashes Ronon playfully then ducks back onto the sand to avoid the retaliation. Ronon follows, and they laugh and feint at each other, trading playful jabs and soft, slow kicks. Rodney watches them fight, sees it turn from playful to something a little more energised, more primal. They’re pulling their punches but leaning heavily into each other’s space, panting wildly and gripping wrists, grunting from exertion. It’s intimate and sensual, a little sexual, but Rodney can’t bring himself to feel angry that John’s exerting his sexuality right there in front of him, doesn’t begrudge him this moment with Ronon that he can’t have with Rodney. He sits down on the flowery bank and lets his feet dangle in the water, taking in the beauty surrounding him and listening as they grapple one another. 

Teyla sits down next to him, graceful in this movement as in any other, and they press together at the shoulder, hip, thigh. She takes his hand in hers and holds on to him, kicking her feet in the water. Rodney feels content, sitting there with her in this beautiful place, a little giddy and a lot relaxed. He kicks Teyla’s ankle gently with his foot and she rests her head on his shoulder. 

“You have very lovely ankles,” says Teyla. “Delicate and fine-boned.” 

“I...uh...thank you,” says Rodney. “You have a very lovely everything.” 

Teyla laughs, bright and true. “Here, lift up your foot.” She grabs Rodney’s left calf and lifts his leg, bending it until the leg lands over her lap, where she begins to massage the arches of his feet. “You must be tired from all that walking.” 

“Uh...I...Teyla...I mean, that’s nice and everything but we don’t usually-” He’s stopped by Teyla’s finger on his lips. 

“Shhh. Let me do this for you. I have always wanted to.” 

Rodney stays quiet while she digs her fingertips into his feet, pressing and pushing the tension out of them from the heel, up through the arch and into the base of the toes, over and over, in a luxurious rhythm. She bends each toe back, one by one, as far as they can go and it feels so good, so soothing yet energising, and isn’t that just Teyla all over. She rotates his foot at the ankle, clockwise then anticlockwise, then brushes her hands up over his calf, up and down, squeezing the muscles fluidly until his leg feels blissfully rested. 

With a pleased smile Teyla presses a kiss to his knee then lowers his foot down between them, reaching for the other leg and lifting it out of the water. She repeats her ministrations on this foot, steadily and slowly, loosening his muscle, ligaments, and tendons with her strong hands. By the time she kisses his right knee he feels sleepy, like he could lie down and nap in the sunshine, but she’s not done. 

“I would like to hold you, if I may,” she says, reaching out for him with open arms. Rodney doesn’t hesitate, he leans forward and lets her press his face into her chest, feeling as her fingers brush through his hair. She smells like sunshine and sweat and spiced Athosian soap and, yes, pollen, like home and comfort, and Rodney relaxes into her and lets himself be held in her arms. He wraps his own arms around her waist and hopes that he is conveying how much he loves her, and how much he wants to touch her. There are very few people he actively wants to touch, and Teyla’s high on the list, right below John. It’s funny, he’s always felt that way but he’s never felt it so strongly as he does at this moment. 

The sound of John squealing breaks them apart as he is lifted up above Ronon’s head and thrown over the giant’s shoulder, landing with a thump and a giggle. “Truce!” he cries. 

Ronon holds out a hand and John takes it. He pulls him up with ease and pats him on the shoulder. “Good fight.” 

Teyla gives Rodney one last kiss, this time on the lips, then stands up and heads over to where John and Ronon are hugging manfully. When they step back she pulls John into her, pressing her forehead against his, and they embrace lovingly. 

Ronon wets his hands in the river then washes his face, before coming over to where Rodney is sitting. He sits behind Rodney, bracketing him with his muscular legs, and places his hands on Rodney’s shoulders. He says nothing as he starts to work at Rodney’s neck and shoulder blades with a strength bordering on herculean, and Rodney moans at the power in his hands as they channel through his fingertips. It’s better than the best massage he’s ever paid for, digging right into the muscle and pressing the knots out with pinpoint precision. Just as it starts to feel too intense, Ronon stops and pulls Rodney back into him, wrapping one arm around his waist and resting a hand on his stomach. Rodney leans back into his friend and relaxes, feeling safe and secure, trusting Ronon to keep him from harm. 

Ronon rests his head on Rodney’s shoulder and presses his lips to the side of his neck. “I knew putting you on point was a good idea,” he says in Rodney’s ear. “This place is perfect.” Before Rodney can reply, he’s unceremoniously pushed into the river, sliding underwater for a few moments until he gets his feet on the riverbed. If this was any other day he knows he would be furious with Ronon, but today is different. He stands up, laughing and dripping wet, and Ronon jumps in after him with a splash. 

Teyla and John are roused from where they are pressed together on the shore, and come to stand at the edge of the river. 

“Come on in,” says Rodney. “The water’s lovely.” 

Teyla looks at John, who politely gestures her to go first, then throws herself in the river, landing in Ronon’s arms and he spins her around as she squeals with delight. John jumps in after, landing right beside Rodney, and Rodney pulls him up out of the water and kisses him right there in front of Ronon and Teyla. They’re not exactly a secret, the two of them, but they’ve never shown each other physical affection in front of anyone. Rodney spares a thought for their unspoken PDA rule but dismisses it out of hand. Today is special, why shouldn’t he kiss his boyfriend in the middle of this paradise? It feels good, it feels right. 

John wraps his arms around Rodney’s neck and kisses him back with interest, sliding his tongue into Rodney’s mouth and humming softly. A sudden moan cuts through the surge of affection that Rodney’s feeling. He looks over to Teyla and Ronon. Teyla’s legs are wrapped around Ronon’s waist, and it doesn’t take a genius to figure out where that is going. He leads John out of the river and on to the bank, where he strips them both of their wet clothes and tumbles them down on to the ground in a bed of flowers where they roll around, kissing and caressing, touching skin and intertwining their limbs. 

It finally occurs to Rodney that there might be something going on. There must be something in the air, and it says something about their crazy lives that Rodney isn’t surprised that they’ve found the sex pollen planet in Pegasus. He pulls his head back from John and forces him to make eye contact. 

“I think we’ve been roofied by the pansies,” he says. 

“Mmmhmm,” says John, cupping Rodney’s head and kissing his jaw. 

“It’s the pollen.” 

John kisses his way across Rodney’s collarbone. “I know.” 

“But you don’t care.” 

“Nope. Do you?” 

“Not really. If, uh, if you wanted to join Ronon and Teyla right now I wouldn’t be mad.” 

“Nah, I’m good.” 

“I mean it, I won’t hold it against you. I know you’re not...and they’re both hot. Really hot.” 

“I don’t need anything more than what you give me,” says John, as he smooths his hand over Rodney’s flank, rolling him onto his back and draping over him. His smiles at Rodney, eyes crinkling at the corners, and Rodney feels himself grin back. There’s nowhere else in the galaxy that he’d rather be. 


End file.
